


Boys Love Flowers

by Caswingsuniverse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Jock!Dean, M/M, Punk Castiel, punk!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caswingsuniverse/pseuds/Caswingsuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While dancing around each other without actually making a move, Castiel keeps his crush on the athletic Dean Winchester to himself. Then one day in English class, Dean falls asleep at the desk next to his own. The punk takes the opportunity to draw on his crush's notebook. Cuteness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys Love Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the DeanCas Summer Mini Bang with art by the amazing @deanandhiscas. Please check out her tumblr and the masterpost for the challenge to see what she's drawn. I hope y'all enjoy!

Castiel fiddles with his keys in his pocket as he saunters into the dingy school building. The sun glares through his aviators and he squints at the pale sky. Nice day. Damn shame-- he’ll have to spend the rest of it in English and Algebra. Sighing, the high school senior slips through the entrance behind a group of girls he doesn’t recognize. One of them- a red head wearing a Star Wars shirt- looks him up and down with a slight smirk. He winks at her, causing the girl to snort as he walks away. Castiel knows his appearance earns him some curious glances, but it doesn’t bother him anymore. 

When Gabriel took a thirteen-year-old Castiel out of Michael’s house, he’d only ever worn dress slacks, dress shirts and a tan trench coat. He only ever said polite things. He only followed Michael’s rules. Gabriel had looked down at his younger brother, smiling at his constantly disheveled hair. He then took Castiel to the mall, telling the boy to pick out anything he wanted to wear. 

“It’s time ya started being yourself, Cassie,” Gabriel said, fidgeting with his new bomber jacket. 

At first, Castiel was skeptical. He stuck with solid colors for a while, complimentary blues and reds. His sophomore year he started wearing band t-shirts Gabriel bought him for holidays. Then last year, Castiel started going all out. He bought dark blue jeans and bright skinny jeans instead of dress pants. He wore All Stars and combat boots instead of dress shoes. He wore frayed t-shirts and tanks he bought from Goodwill instead of white button ups. He dyed the tips of his hair electric blue to match his eyes, started painting his nails, even got a septum piercing. The only thing he kept from his former style was the trench coat. He had grown out of the tan one, so he replaced it with a black one. 

The fabric sways around his knees as he strides to his English class. He hikes his messenger up higher on his shoulder, meeting the gazes of those who look at him. He smiles openly at people, the ends of his hair swaying into his vision. Some people smile back, some greet him. He still keeps to himself, preferring to listen to music and read books, but he’s become more outgoing since the first year Gabriel got them their own place. 

Castiel enters the small classroom with a small smile on his lips. He takes his normal seat by the window, lanky legs sprawled out underneath the desk. He pulls his notebook and a copy of “The Sound and the Fury” from his bag. While his fellow classmates shuffle in, he opens his book to Quentin’s chapter again. He found Faulkner’s style of writing intriguing. Going to school in Kansas meant he didn’t quite understand Southern social standards, not that he understands social standards period. He underlines more of his favorite quotes, bouncing his leg under the table. Normally, he hates class discussions, but in English class, he felt alive. People listened to him when he spoke. 

The desk next to him squeaks a little across the tile when Dean Winchester crashes into the seat. The boy’s backpack thunks against the floor, causing Castiel to jump a little. Dean glances at him, eyes silently apologizing. He’s got bags under his eyes, accenting the green hue of his irises. Castiel nods, then goes back to his book. Despite the fact he stares at the words, his mind shifts through thoughts of the baseball player. He’d known Dean since they were in elementary school. The sandy haired boy got along with everyone, even now in his teen years. He’d been dating Lisa Braeden for years, but just before the Homecoming Dance, they broke it off. They still hung out, even ate lunch together sometimes. Ever since, Dean looked tired all the time. And he had started these silent conversations with Castiel. The jock came into class the Friday before Homecoming and instead of sitting in the far back corner, he chose the normally empty desk beside Castiel. Castiel never thought anything of it, but the boy’s proximity to him and their ability to have conversations without saying words made his chest feel tight. 

Mrs. Harvelle stands up and claps her hands together, ready to start the conversation. Castiel shakes his head, removing all thoughts of Dean from his mind as he delves into the discussion of what was quickly becoming his new favorite book. 

Not half an hour into the discussion, Castiel looks around the room. He takes in the different expressions of his peers. Some appear as excited as he is, others seem confused or bored. And Dean… he’s asleep. The boy’s freckled cheek is pressed into his bunched up letter man jacket. Castiel looks between the sleeping boy and Mrs. Harvelle, surprised she hasn’t discovered the teen yet. After a second passes, Castiel looks down at his own notebook. Along the edges of the neat notes he’s taken, there are doodles of random things. Eyes, stick figures, flowers, scribbles. Castiel tilts his head, then looks back at Dean’s blank notebook. He smiles, then leans over enough to draw a small flower on to of one of the thin blue lines on the paper. 

Dean nuzzles his jacket, and Castiel puts his hand over his mouth to keep from giggling. He looks over at Mrs. Harvelle again, nodding along as she explains how the book is split up by character. Once again, he leans over and draws another flower- this time with a different colored pen. When Castiel attempts to lean back, he pushes against the spiral of Dean’s notebook. The boy wakes up, looking at Castiel in confusion, then at the classroom around him. He wipes his mouth and yawns as Castiel blushes. 

Castiel tries to not focus on Dean after that, taking part in the discussion again. He smiles when Mrs. Harvelle agrees on his interpretation of Quentin’s obsession with the broken pocket watch. When he looks down again to take a couple of notes, he notices Dean scribbling away at his notebook in the corner of his eye. Castiel takes a closer look when the scribbles don’t look like the normal left to right notes, and smiles at what he sees. 

Surrounding the red and blue flowers Castiel had drawn on Dean’s paper is a meadow of green ones. Dean had even started drawing leaves for each flower, smiling down at his paper. Castiel grins, watching Dean continue to draw. When the boy feels like someone’s watching him, he looks up. His green eyes meet Castiel’s blue ones, wide with embarrassment as he tries to cover the paper with his arm. 

Castiel continues to smile, winking at the boy just as the bell rings for the next class period. Dean blushes, accenting the freckles across his cheeks, as Castiel looks away to pack his bag. He stands, settling the strap of the bag on his shoulder. Dean’s neck is still red as he hurries to put his belongings away. His own cheeks slightly flushed, Castiel says the first full sentence he’s ever directed at the boy. “See ya tomorrow, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes snap up at him, lips forming into a small smile as he mutters, “You too, Cas.”


End file.
